


Run

by Goliathus_Regius



Category: Free!
Genre: Depression, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:13:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goliathus_Regius/pseuds/Goliathus_Regius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything had been close enough to perfect, until that moment. Then, suddenly he found he couldn't breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

**Author's Note:**

> A quick one-shot I whipped up while I was bored. Sorry for any mistakes in here, I tried to fix it as well as I could.

He saw the impact coming a moment before it hit. Instantly, he knew better than to think it was an accident. Rin didn’t make mistakes like this.

His body froze him to where he was in the water, maybe a foot from the wall. The swimmer in the next lane slapped hard against it before they turned to finish the race, not realizing what was going on. Haruka wasn’t even sure himself what he had just witnessed.

But, he still felt panicked, unsure of what to do. He stared at Rin, at the man who had just slammed head-first into the pool’s concrete wall. Rin’s mouth was open, but he couldn’t hear if the man did make any noise, thanks to the roaring in his own ears. His body was froze up, and Haruka knew that the impact against the wall, the thud from it was audible even during the heat of the race, must have been painful. Still, his fear didn’t peak until he saw the blood.

It spilled from the back of Rin’s chest, a dark, abstract form being sucked into the water around it. It had gotten so thick so quickly it was impossible for him to see the source. Some of the dark substance made it to him, and he shivered as he backed away, eyes never leaving Rin.

The other racers were finished by now, he could hear them yelling from the other side of the pool.

The race. He had lost, of course, but what could that possibly mean to him now? That would never hold any meaning to him, not until he knew Rin was alright?

The terror numbed him quickly, and he couldn’t do anything more but watch in silence as the paramedics dragged Rin out of the pool, blood sticking to his back once his limp form made it to the air.

The horrible amount of blood remained in the water, growing thinner and thinner as it spread through the clear substance, staining it with it’s terrible presence. The water lapped gently at the edge of the concrete, rustled from the disturbance. Everything looked so wrong.

No. _No._ What the hell had just happened? His legs trembled, failing to help him as he tried to back away from the growing spot of red in the water. Numb as he was, he hardly noticed when he fell, more of slipping down into the water, really. The water welcomed him, sucking him under easily.

Bubbles came out of his mouth, but he wasn’t quite sure what he’d said at first. After a moment, _‘Rin’_ came to him, and he felt that panic again, holding him tightly in place where he had found himself, below the water’s surface.

He didn’t want to go up there. Rin was up there, bleeding, dying, maybe. And it was his fault, somehow, he thought.

He didn’t notice when he took a breath of the water, too tired to care. He didn’t care when the blood made  it to him, his eyes closed by them.

He felt it only faintly when somebody dragged him to the surface, laying him down on the floor next to the pool. He became more aware of the rough motion, the ripping feeling of the water being forced out of his lungs.

There weren’t many words he managed to comprehend that day. But, one broadcast to the audience did make it to him, through the haze of numbness that had cast itself over all he felt and saw in the world around himself.

It came while he sat against the concrete border between the athlete’s area and the audiences seats, a towel wrapped around his otherwise bare shoulders. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the incident. It felt like hours, but could have just as well been minutes, moments, or less.

“Attention.” Despite himself, his head perked up, gaze training itself to the sky in his mild interest.

“We have received new on the athlete Rin Matsuoka. We regret  to inform you that he was shot in the chest by a member of the audience, and has passed away moments ago. To the members of his family, and…”

Haruka missed the rest of it, gaze settling to stare intently at his feet.

Dead.

He tried breathing. His chest burned, aching with a pain he couldn’t escape.

_Dead._

He could still faintly see the red in the water. Nobody had came for him, no. Nobody wanted to make sure he was okay, not when he was the one at fault for this.

He curled his knees closer to his chest, trying to make himself disappear.

He had been forgotten among the chaos, understandably. After all, people had always liked Rin more than they liked Haruka.

He didn’t mind their lack of presence, though. Their words could do nothing to relive the pounding nothingness inside of him, the hole Rin had torn in his heart when he was ripped away so suddenly.

Like a bathtub, he thought faintly. Rin’s removal from his life had pulled the plug, draining everything else away with the torrent of water.

“Haru!” Oh my god, thank goodness you’re alright. You are alright, aren’t you? I-I mean, physically, of course. Oh my god, I… I feel awful. I-I don’t know what to say…”

Face still blank, he looked up painfully slow. Makoto stood before him, but he hadn’t needed to look up to know that much. Nor did he need to see him to know he would have that awful, pained expression like he was barely keeping everything together for Haruka’s sake.

And, he knew he was. He had spent so many years with the man it would be impossible for him to not know him well enough to tell when he was shielding his own emotions to help a friend.

But he didn’t need help right now, at least not the kind anybody could hope to offer.

“Haru?” Makoto kneeled down next to him, Haruka taking the chance to stare a his feet again, not moving and inch.

“I’m so sorry. Rin was my friend, but this much worse you… I can’t even begin to imagine how..”

_‘So much worse._ ’ No, it was bad for Rin. Rin who hadn’t even finished his first and only shot at the Olympics. What kind of world would do something so awful to somebody like Rin? He only ever tried his best, it was a lot more than you could say about Haruka.

Why did Rin leave him? Why did he have to be the target? If Haruka had been ahead of him, if he had been in Rin’s lane, wouldn’t he be gone instead?

Wouldn’t it be better that way?

Rin, who would actually cry like a fucking human being and not sit in apathetic silence while he waited for something to happen while hoping nothing ever would. Rin, who would have emotions and deserve and take the comfort his friends were giving him, and not ignore them.

It made him so furious to think about, how true it was. How he didn’t deserve to be here, much less comfort…

So, Haruka shook his head, not looking up to see how Makoto responded.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto said again, voice soft. “If you want to talk about anything…”

Haruka shot him a deathly glare. “Shut up,” he growled lowly, knowing that was wrong of him, that he shouldn’t be getting mad at Makoto, of all people. But he couldn’t help it. His world was crumbling and all he could hold onto was this burning, horrible fury.

“O-oh, Haru, I didn’t mean-”

“Just shut up!” He repeated, voice growing firm. Somebody turned to him, somebody who muttered something, but he didn’t care what it was. That anger built up inside of him, begging to be let go, stronger than any kind of feeling he’d known, too strong to be restrained.

He could hide his feelings for Rin in public, that had always been easy enough. Why then, now that he was gone, was he feeling so passionate that he couldn’t hold it in? What was wrong with him?

Then, suddenly, his world grew icy again.

“Leave me alone.” He stood up, ignoring Makoto’s hand offering to  help him. “I’m going home.”

“B-but, it could be dangerous-”

“I don’t care. I’m going home. If somebody shoots me, they shoot me.”

There was pain in that sentence, not for him but Makoto. Makoto who had stood by his side for so many years, who had watched happily as he fell in love, who was now being pushed away with nothing to do about it.

“There’s nothing for me here anyway.” That much was true. Rin was dead, it didn’t matter what he did from here.

As he turned from his friend, the only person he had left in the world who might not even be there for him now, not after what he’d said to him, the numbness probed back.

It was better than the anger. And, it was impossible to refuse.

Some people crowded near him, asking questions that came out to no more than nonsense to him. But most were preoccupied with the chaos that ensued after an athlete was murdered right before them.

Or perhaps, he supposed, no one cared about him. He might have been one hell of a swimmer, but there was nothing likable about him. Not like Rin.

Which made it shocking to many that anyone would want to kill the cocky, ever grinning, devoted swimmer. But the world is cruel to all, no matter how endearing or hard working. It was the work of hate, something Haruka knew well was all too alive in the world.

Some would say later that it was Rin’s fault he was killed, that being openly gay and an Olympic swimmer was simply begging to be killed.

It was his fault, he knew, as he walked out, magically avoiding press and gunmen alike. If he hadn’t been with Rin in that way, had stopped him from announcing to the world that yes, they had been married, that yes, they were living together now, things would have been different. The world wasn’t ready for people like them, that one person had proved that.

If it weren’t for him, Rin would still be alive. He would be happy, would have won the Olympics.

No, that was all taken from him because Haru hadn’t been able to say no, I love you, but no, I’m not supposed to and we both know that.

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t stay in his hotel, hiding from press and family, and even Makoto, forever. He’d have to go back at some point. Maybe he could move into an apartment, sell his house quietly and forget about everything.

But he knew he couldn’t do that. It was too important of a place to Rin, too many years had been poured into the place, for him to simply abandon.

Besides, he didn’t care to leave the aquariums they had to somebody else. He didn’t have much anymore, he might as well hold onto those.

After the first day of sitting around on the hotel room’s couch, he finally bothered to get up and answer the door.

“Haru!” A familiar voice.

“What?” He asked Makoto, staring at him. He knew what came next. Makoto would figure out Haruka hadn’t eater, he’d get angry, he’d sit with him, trying in vain to figure out what the hell went on inside Haru’s head.

Except, he didn’t. His eyes were puffy and red, and he looked disheveled with wrinkly clothes he clearly hadn’t bothered to change out of since yesterday.

He had been stupid, he knew, not to realize everyone else would be upset, crying depressed, broken even, by Rin’s death.

All except him.  It was wrong, he should feel upset, it was his husband, for god’s sake. Or, at least, they had been as close to legally married as they would ever be. Of course, none of that mattered now.

Makoto handed him a piece of paper, a plane ticket, he realized, looking over it.

“Haru, I…” Makoto was obviously close to crying. Haruka knew he should comfort him, but couldn’t bring himself to. Makoto took a deep breath, and started again.

“I don’t want to lose you over this. Please, just… Promise me you wont hurt yourself over this. You can come live with me, if you need to, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You can have your space, as long as you need to recover…”

“No,” Haruka said, automatically.

“A-are you sure?” He looked so weak, Haruka wondered a bit if Makoto was the one who needed the company, not him.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” he told him, like he always said. Of course Makoto could see right through it.

“Please, I don’t want  you to be alone!”

“I’m fine,” he repeated.

The world swirled away from him all too easily. Makoto left at some point, his words forgotten in minutes, insignificant. He packed what little luggage he had bothered to bring, taking Rin’s too. No point in leaving it to be taken by somebody else.

The hotel did a good job of keeping the press out, and an employee led him out a back way, to ensure he didn’t meet anyone. His ride to the airport, a small taxi. Free of charge, the employee assured him.

Numb as he was, he did realize grief had some benefits.

It still felt so unreal, though, to think he had started this journey exited, Rin next to him in the plane. Now he was going back, apathetic, and Rin was returning in a casket.

Makoto had the seat next to his, of course he would pull something like that, but Haruka somehow managed to avoid saying a word the entire flight. Some part of him hoped he’d never have to talk again. It would sure make life a lot easier.

“They found the man who did it,” Makoto said at some point.

Of course they did. They would be failures at their job if they didn’t.

It didn’t do anything to make things right, of course. It didn’t ease the crushing weight of the apathy that clung to Haruka no matter how badly he wished he could get rid of it, the feeling much too stubborn. Just like before.

Swirling, everything was still simply swirling around him. He could do nothing but sit still.

He skipped Rin’s funeral.

What was the point of going? Causing himself only more grief over the shell of the only person he’d ever let himself love?

Makoto had stopped by to pick him up, dressed in a tuxedo that Haruka hadn’t known he owned. Perhaps he didn’t, and he was only borrowing it.

It didn’t matter anyway, Haruka didn’t go. He didn’t refuse, as much as he simply sat there and waited until Makoto left him alone.

Makoto had told him funerals were closure, but that was a luxury Haruka new he’d never get anyway.

_‘Star athlete, loved son and brother.’_

That’s what his grave had said. His legacy, summed up into six words. Of course, Haru had no say in it, no legal ground to say he should get a place on it. Welcome to the world.

Not like he would’ve bothered to take it if there was.

He would have starved himself quickly if Makoto hadn’t shown up, often over three times a day, caring him. Like a child, he took it, rather than trying to fight Makoto off.

He would have drowned himself if he had the energy to go to the pool. Instead, he spent days in bed, halfheartedly picking up books or sketchbooks. Other than that, he sat in front of his aquariums. Makoto few the fish now, he simply watched them.

He would have worn the same clothes everyday (he didn’t soil them at all anyway, since he hardly did anything), if Makoto didn’t come by and do his laundry for him.

“They sentenced him to prison.”

Not good enough. 20 years, that’s all the man got. He would be out one day, though in his sixties by then.

“I mean, there was corruption involved, of course.”

Duh. How else would he have managed to smuggle a gun into the Olympic Stadium?

“But at least he won’t be able to do anyone any harm by the time he gets out.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Humans are monsters.”

His first words since Rin died.

“Not all of them...”

But enough were. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air between them.

He doubted Makoto believed many of the comforting words he told Haruka. They sounded desperate, lame attempts to get him to feel something, anything at all.

Needless to say, they never worked.

Makoto tried other things, said he had a surprise for Haruka. He didn’t want it.

He promised Haru he’d make things alright.

How could he hope to do that?

He tried to protect Haruka, but he knew the truth well enough.

Some people were calling for the man who killed Rin to be let go, that it was only right for a person like Rin to die in such a way. Such were the ways of the world.

None in Japan, of course, said such awful words. Such a statement would be taboo to voice. Still, Haruka knew it was a belief at least a few people shared.

Rin’s house had a pool, 50 mete res, two lanes, in the backyard. It took up most of the space, what little other ground left filled with wildflowers.

He had always thought of the place as Rin’s house, though he supposed it was entirely his now. Rin’s will had made that much clear.

A will. When had he even written that? Haruka couldn’t remember him doing such a thing. Had he been afraid of dying? If he had written a will, what else had he hidden from Haru?

Death threats, perhaps?

Not like that all mattered, this was his place now, whether he was sure he wanted it or not.

Still, everything about it was Rin’s, undoubtedly. The loudness expressed in the varied interior wall colors, the livelihood in the houses showy exterior.

It wasn’t a mansion, Haruka had absolutely refused that idea. Still, it was too big for the two of them, and far too empty when you’re the only one living inside. Like a ghost house in the day, and a cemetery at night. He still half expected to find Rin in the bed at night, to see him groggily making breakfast in the kitchen, swimming laps in their pool in the day.

Two stories, four bedrooms, three bathrooms. A pleasant garden that would be withering without Makoto’s kind hand.

The only part about the entire place Haruka genuinely enjoyed about the entire place was the pool, but he often wondered if Rin ever realised that. It wasn’t something he would ever admit.

Well, it was certainly too late to find out now. It didn’t matter anyway, not with how looking into that water made him feel. The chill that went through him thinking about that water, stained deep red.

It had been months since Rin’s death. He wondered if things were decaying, or had simply fallen apart and were now only hanging on by a thread.

He wasn’t sure. Perhaps he was drowning, he thought, standing at the edge of the pool. The water was clear, reminding him it was peaceful, that there was no gunman waiting patiently for him to finish his lap. Still, he felt ill as he slipped into the water.

A ghost, like those he had witnessed before. Rin, jumping in next to him, laughing as he announced they should race.

Except, Rin would never race him again. He had been ahead of Haruka in the Olympics. Would he have won that? He could never know.

There was so much he would never know.

He only bothered to peel off his baggy shirt after he was in the water. It sunk to the bottom, left, forgotten as he pushed off the wall, arms reaching out as the water met him in a cool embrace.

What if they had been aiming for him instead? What would have happened if Haru had been ahead? If he had been in Rin’s lane?

Hypotheticals caused nothing but grief.

He pushed harder, making the turn he had never gotten to in the Olympics, ignoring the urge to stop and gasp for air. He ignored all his thoughts, drowning out Rin as easily as he was drowning himself.

Another turn, his chest screaming now. Red flashed in his eyes and he closed them, going forward and forward. It was that same color...

Still, he didn’t stop. His limbs were numb, and yet, he forced them to carry on the now automatic pattern, stroke after stroke.

Rin wasn’t there to stop him, tell him enough was enough. Force him to give up, drag him away from the water like he had so many times before.

Of course he couldn’t, thanks to Haru.

Now, there was nobody left to stop him.

At least, he had assumed that, until, as he approached another turn, another lap, perhaps the last one he’d be able to do, a body slammed into his, forcing him out of the water, making him stand up.

Strong hands wrapped around him, grip knocking the breath out of him he had to gasp for breath involuntarily.

Even so, he felt himself slipping away. A panicked voice, yelling, perhaps even screaming. It didn’t matter, he couldn’t make out the words anymore anyway. That red was still there, spots coating the dark.

_“Haru?! Wake up, please!”_

But he was so tired...

* * *

Haru went limp in his arms. Makoto’s heart pounded, his terror blending with panic.

He was so light, how hadn’t he noticed how much weight Haru had lost?

How had he been so blind to it? To everything?

He got him out of the pool, but it was too late anyway. By the time the paramedics arrived...

He left the house with a veil over his head.

‘No...’

If he had arrived their moments before, would Haru’s fate have been different?

Rin, and now Haru...

How could he do this? Didn’t he think about how much it would everyone who cared about him?

How Makoto would have to spend the rest of his life with this weight inside of him?

He couldn’t afford to fall apart, like Haru had. No, he had to stay strong.

Makoto would regret a lot of things. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder...

Would it have changed anything at all, if he had told Haru about his daughter sooner? Made him see that the world was still a place of beauty and kindness?

He believed so, but even he couldn’t read Haru perfectly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you leave a comment, criticism is always appreciated. Again, sorry it could use a lot of improvement.


End file.
